


Sickles For The Poor

by red_b_rackham



Series: A Hot Summer Day [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boredom, Friendship, Gen, Hot Summer Day, Humor, Ice Cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:43:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_b_rackham/pseuds/red_b_rackham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a super hot day in Diagon Alley, and James and Sirius want some ice cream. What antics are to follow? Oneshot. (Set in their 5th year.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sickles For The Poor

**Author's Note:**

> A/n: This was a random plot bunny that flew into my head and spawned from the thought of James and Sirius scamming someone for money. And, this is ancient (according to FF.net, I posted this way back in '05!!). I've since written a companion, called "Best In Show". This one's a little cheesy, in hindsight I think, but ah well. (Originally posted on ff.net 6/7/2005)

The sun was beating down from above and there seemed to be no breeze what so ever. It was too hot to move, and even the shade offered little relief. Sirius Black and James Potter were seated in the metal and plastic chairs just outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, seated under one of the table umbrellas.

"Of course we pick the most miserably hot day of the entire summer to come here and hang out." James fanned himself with his hand, which was steadily slowing as he found less energy to keep it going. It was making no difference anyhow.

"And of course this is the day that your mom decides to take an extra three hours in Muggle London." Sirius was leaning back in the chair, his head bent back so he was he staring at the underside of the colorful umbrella.

"And it would also happen that by the time we decide we need some afternoon refreshments for relief, we've already used up all of our money on lunch and souvenirs of this day." James very briefly glanced at the bag sitting near his feet beside the chair. It contained several items that James and Sirius had purchased earlier that day, which ranged from a new quill to a finger-sized model of the latest racing broom.

Both of them sighed heavily.

"We need money." said Sirius. He lifted his head and the pair watched the people slowly stream past, also wishing to get out of the sun as soon as possible but being forced to by the things they needed to get done.

One particular boy, wearing grayish robes and with dirty blonde hair, had his hands in his pockets jingling change and whistling a tune. He appeared quite unaffected by the sweltering heat. The pair knew him from Hogwarts.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder at the price board of Florean Fortescue's. "It'd be close to a Sickle for both of us. Probably some change left over…"

James looked around at the other tables and spotted a used Styrofoam cup that had not yet been cleared away. He got up and grabbed it, and by the time he'd returned to their table, Sirius already had his wand out.

"Know what I'm thinkin'?" James asked, a smile creeping over his handsome features.

"Way ahead of you, mate." Sirius grinned.

* * *

"Sickles for the poor?" Sirius jammed a Styrofoam cup under John Buttercomb's nose.

"What?"

James tapped the cup with his finger. "Can't you read? Look, 'Donations for Starving African Children'."

John looked skeptically from one to the other. "Why are you both all sweaty?"

"Because it's over a million degrees out here! Have you noticed?" Sirius said exasperatedly, trying not to think solely of the cold ice cream awaiting him as soon as he got John's money.

John shrugged. "It's not that bad…"

"We're getting away from the subject. Are you going to donate or not?" James waggled the cup in front of John again.

"C'mon, John! You're in Hufflepuff! Have some compassion!" Sirius said convincingly. "What were you going to do with that money in your pocket for anyway? A sized model of the latest racing broom?"

"Why waste your money like that when you can feed some kids who have _nothing_?" James pleaded.

John looked guiltily at his shoe and then dug into his pocket. "Ok, ok. Here's a Sickle." He plunked it into the cup.

James ruffled John's dirty blonde hair. "You're a good kid, John. I knew you were always willing to donate to a good cause."

As John walked away, he seemed to carry himself a little higher, a little prouder. Sirius called out after him, "Bless you!"

Once he was out of ear-shot, James and Sirius broke down into fits of laughter. James clutched his stomach and Sirius used James for support.

"D-did you s-see – "

"The look on his _face!"_

"I was there!"

They laughed some more and the after gaining control of themselves and wiping away several laughter-induced tears, they headed back over towards Florean Fortescue's for that cold, tempting ice cream.

Just then, Sirius heard a small voice behind him. "Oh, excuse me!" Both he and James stopped walking and turned around.

"Excuse me, young men." The speaker was a fragile, stereotypical little old lady with a cane. "I heard about your cause, and being the selfish broad I am, I walked away before I convinced myself to do this. I've thought it over, and those poor children need the money more than I do. She began rummaging in her large purse.

Sirius and James exchanged glances. How could they explain to this lady that it was a scam to get money for some ice cream on a hot day? Sirius got the horrible image of her taking that purse and beating him soundly over the head several times.

"Er, ma'am, you see – " James started but was cut off.

"Ah-hah!" she produced a large wad of green paper from her bag. "I know its Muggle money, but they should be able to change it for you at Gringott's."

"Ma'am – " Sirius tried, still trying to erase the image of the old woman beating him.

"It's roughly more than 120 dollars, there." She stuffed the wad of bills into Sirius' hands. "It's my grocery money for the month, but I'll be fine. I can always stay with Harold." She beamed. "I wouldn't ever be able to live with myself if I walked away with that money knowing it could have been donated to a great cause. What greater a cause is there, than feeding starving children?"

"Ma'am, we can't take this – "

"Nonsense! Don't be silly! Take it! And make sure everyone of those dear, darling African children see every penny of it. Bless _you_." She winked at them, and immediately hobbled off, hearing no more on the subject.

Sirius stared at the huge wad of Muggle money in his hands, then he looked at James. Guilt swept through them both as they remembered the Sickle from John and their intentions to have ice cream with it under the false pretense of feeding starving children. They turned their gazes briefly to the cup James still held then back to each other.

Sirius swallowed. "Well…"

"Ya." James nodded.

* * *

A tall woman with dark, chocolate colored skin heaved a sad sigh as she retrieved the mail from a rusted out old mailbox. She was lucky they even delivered her mail anymore. Hoping to find something of value, something other than bills, but knowing it would never happen, she listlessly flipped through the envelopes in her hand and began walking back to the orphanage.

Bill, bill, bill…

Nothing.

She leaned against the large, crumbling stone fence bordering the orphanage's property. A tear slid down her face. It was days like these when she felt so darn hopeless.

Suddenly there was a slow flapping noise. The woman looked behind her, shielding her eyes from the blazing African sun with her hand. A large, feathery bird that she had only ever seen briefly in books, flew her way. It landed with a small thud on the fence.

The strange bird stuck its leg out towards her, indicating a large parcel tied to it. Confused and intrigued, the woman gently untied the parcel and as soon as it was free, the bird abruptly took off. She stared after the bird for another moment, wondering how in the world an owl got to Africa with a package.

She turned her attention back to the parcel, and saw that it was a large envelope, brown and crumpled from travel, and taped shut in the back by packing tape. The address on the front was her, at the Ngami Orphanage (named after her mother who began it, which was also her own name) in Ethiopia. There seemed to be no return address anywhere.

She ripped open the package and was shocked to find large clumps of money tied neatly together. Immediately she realized that the money was Birr, and she guessed that there was more than enough for this month's groceries. As well as the papaer money, there was some Birr change, and another larger silver coin that she did not recognize. In shock, Ngami read the letterinside the envelope.

" _Dear Ngami Orphanage,_

_There is little to explain. We collected some money for you, and converted it into Birr so it would actually be useful for you. We hope this feeds the children, and we promised that the children would see every penny of this money. We know you will put it all to good use._

_Mr. Black and Mr. Potter_ "

Ngami stared at the letter, still in shock. An act of kindness? Who were these two men? Why – how – had they managed to get so much money, and why send it to _her_? She clutched the letter to her chest, her eyes fast filling up with tears. Never in her life had she received such a gift. And the fact that it was for the children, only made the gift that much better. She turned her face to the sky, and held the strange silver coin in her fist, thinking of it as a reminder and momento of this gift that she would keep close to her forever.

"Mr Potter… Mr. Black… whoever you are… where ever you are… God Bless."

**-end-**


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